


Stress

by kittyyzma



Series: What We've Started [2]
Category: Divergent (Movies), Divergent Series - Veronica Roth
Genre: F/M, They needed more cuddles.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 11:14:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4098976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittyyzma/pseuds/kittyyzma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even though nothing happened, they both had feelings to sort through - Tris more than Eric. He was the only one in the way of what he wanted. She however, she had Four to consider...Second oneshot in the "Chasm" universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stress

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I'm back! I have a one-track mind, so excuse me here. lol. I didn't want to directly continue Chasm, because it can stand alone the way it is, here's continuation - and because I'm suffering through a block, I could only work on this. All Eris, again.
> 
> Characters may seem a little OOC but then again, the characters were being portrayed in a war, so maybe they would act like this in less climactic situations. Eric doesn't really have a personality in the books, or the movies really - so I'm making one up. Lol. I tried to make him less one-dimensional.
> 
>  
> 
> I don't own anything from the book or movies, unfortunately. But if I did...

Tris could feel her brain pounding against her skull. Having opened her eyes, she buried her face back to the darkness. She remembered what happened the night before and most of her drunken behavior. She remembered drinking, staying out past curfew, and most of her conversation with Eric. She could feel him wrapped around her, her hands had roamed to underneath his shirt. The warmth of his skin must have given her comfort. His strong arms were clasped around her, keeping her close. He had his chin on the top of her head and one hand on the bottom of her thigh. His fingers gripped her skin gently, like she had moved and he pulled her back.

She wanted to recoil from him in shame.

But she knew she would be eternally grateful for him not judging her; he had just understood.

Tris wondered what time it was. She peaked up, trying to gauge the hour by the amount of light leaking through his blinds. The sun wasn't up, but it was bright enough that she could see where she was going if she got up. But she didn't move to disentangle them.

She felt Eric shift and heard his sleepy mumbles. He stiffened for a moment, but relaxed when she ran her hand over his back.

"He jumped." He mumbled softly.

She froze. He was having a bad dream. Not a nightmare, but just a bad dream. He continued to repeat that sentence. She wondered if he would have been tossing and turning if she wasn't laying on the couch next to him, making it impossible for him to move. She ran her hands on soothing motions on his side, calming him to the point where he stopped mumbling.

She couldn't help but be curious. But thinking made her temples twitch, the pain in her head got worse. She squeezed her eyes shut. She would have rather been nauseous. She said she'd never drink again - a lie she told herself.

As she closed her eyes to try and fall back asleep, she felt Eric wake up next to her. He stiffened and didn't release the tension in his body like before. She could feel him flexing his arms and take deep breaths, tell tale signs that he was slow to get up in the morning - surprising, she thought.

Tris could feel him looking at her and she felt self-conscious. She wondered if she should have gotten up and left when she had the chance. But despite him being awake, he hadn't let go of her. He was rubbing circles on her leg with his thumb and she couldn't help but curl her toes.

She opened her eyes, straining to see him through the dark. He was staring at the ceiling, blinking and taking deep, calming breaths. She clutched at his tank top, letting him know she was awake. He wiped his face quickly, drying his eyes. He hadn't cried, but tears had welled in his eyes.

"Hi." He said, looking down at her.

"Hi." Tris answered. She covered her mouth, conscious of her morning breath. "Sorry about this-" she tried to move, but he didn't release his hold on her. And to her surprise, she didn't want to fight him.

"How are you feeling?" He asked quietly; she couldn't help but smile because his voice was still laced with sleep.

"Like I got hit by a train." Tris answered.

Eric nodded, "A hangover will do that to you."

"Why do people do this to themselves?" She groaned, pressing her index finger and thumb to her temples.

"At least you haven't thrown up all over yourself." He answered, sounding far off into space. He had looked back up at the ceiling. She wanted to ask him what he had been thinking about.

"Don't you have to work?" She asked.

"I do." He replied. "But I like to just stay laying down for a few minutes before I get up. I don't get much down time." He sighed, moving his hand from her thigh to her knee. "You can get up if you want to, the bathroom is over there," he inclined his head to the door next to a bookshelf by a window, "or you can use the one in my room."

Tris slid her leg down, passing over his pajama clad ones before her feet were on the cold leather of the couch. She missed his warmth. She sat up, and she felt the room spin. Groaning, she pressed the heels of her hands against her forehead. "Ow." She muttered.

She slowly got up and made her way to the back of the apartment. She stumbled, catching herself on the walls. She couldn't do it. After she made way to his room, she had to lay down in his bed. Her head was killing her. She saw the bottle of ibuprofen on his bedside drawer. Quickly, she opened the cap and took two - without water.

Tris closed her eyes and listened to the sounds of the apartment. The furnace must've kicked in, a soft rumble shook the bed, and the curtains started moving. She looked at the time. 4:30 on the dot. It was an ungodly hour in the morning. But Eric was up. She heard him in the kitchen, probably making himself a cup of coffee. He looked like a coffee guy - but probably only plain, black coffee. She heard a whistling, the sound the kettle makes when the water is boiling. He was making tea.

Not even 2 minutes passed before he came through the door with two mugs. He was sipping from one and holding the other away from himself. "Tea." He said, placing the mug where she had put the pill bottle.

"Thank you," she smiled at him through a yawn. She watched him take a gulp from his own mug. "I never pegged you for a tea guy."

"That's because I'm not a tea guy." He gave a one beat laugh.

"Coffee?" Tris guess quietly, peeking up from underneath his bed covers.

Eric nodded. "Black." He added, "Milk and sugar are for the weak." He joked.

Tris laughed. "You're crazy."

"Only before 5." Eric quipped. He placed his empty cup on the floor and stood. He disappeared into the bathroom and Tris listened to the shower.

Tris stared at the door for what felt like forever. She just listened to the sound of the water, letting the sounds fill her head. Everything from the week had hit her hard, it she felt weak for letting it happen. And she felt stupid for letting it all fall into Eric's lap. He was her leader, they weren't friends. She didn't know one thing about him other than the basics, other than knowing he was a sadistic genius - a terrifying combination. But she hadn't seen anything overly terrible other than the two instances where she hated him.

The time he hung Christina over the chasm. She had been so ready to punch him in the face. It was actually Edward that explained what Eric was thinking to her. He said that Eric was preparing them for a situation where giving up was not an option - situations where they would be the only thing standing in the way between an innocent person and death. Edward walked away from her after he explained that, leaving her to think about it. She had absolutely hated that she understood it.

There was also the time he was going to have Four throw knives at Al - God, Al. She had taken Al's place, and it only made her angry when she thought about it now. Four cut her ear that day, and Tris had stared at Eric the entire time. She wanted to pull one of the knives from the board behind her and hurl it at him. They stood there staring at each other, neither backing down.

But again, he had a job to instill Dauntless values into his initiates. They were military, and one day they would be launched into a war and it was their job to stand in the way and never move. They couldn't give up. She found herself looking at Eric in a different light. She still had a strong dislike for how abrasive he was, but she understood why he was the way he was. What she didn't quite comprehend was his ability to be a completely different person. She didn't get why he didn't leave her sitting over the chasm like he hadn't seen her. Tris mulled over the questionable memories swirling in her mind - she didn't know if she'd imagined them. She wasn't blaming him for what she was doing by any means. She was only curious to why he didn't seem to regret what he'd done.

Tris closed her eyes, it was too early in the morning for all of that thinking, especially when her head was throbbing. She felt an urge to just get up and leave. But she didn't want to hear all the questions Christina would throw at her. Or the looks Four would give her...

"Oh god, Four." She smacked her hand against her forehead. He was going to kill her. He wasn't the one person she thought of last night when she should have.

But it felt wrong now.

Eric walked out of the bathroom, his pants hung low and he was shirtless. He sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed his towel in his hair. He must of thought she went back to sleep because she saw him smile at her before looking away. Tris watched the muscles in his back ripple as he leaned forward, he sighed loudly. He rubbed his hand on his face and then settled both his hands on his knees, dropping the towel on the floor. He looked like he was crumbling from stress. In that moment, she realized he probably took on all the issues Four hurled at him. All the complaints and combative words added onto other stressors in his life would break anyone else.

Tris got up and was behind him and before he could protest, she started to knead the muscles in between his neck and shoulders. He sighed and she felt him relax underneath her fingers. She pressed her thumbs between his shoulder blades and he groaned softly in appreciation. He had knots everywhere, he carried all of the tension of his life on his back.

Tris flashed back to when she'd seen her mother massage her father's shoulders. They had been more open about their interactions than most Abnegation couples but she didn't realize how relaxing the simple acts they showed in front of her and her brother were until then. Tris moved her hands to Eric's head, pressing her fingers to his scalp before putting slight pressure. He rolled his neck, letting her continue massaging his scalp. He'd fall asleep right there if he let himself.

His hair smelt good, like a manly body wash all guys around Dauntless seemed to use. But Tris thought he smelt better...'you're being really weird, Prior..' She didn't get all googly eyed, especially for a man like him - he could probably kill her with his pinky. That fact only intrigued her more - she wanted to know how his mind worked and processed thoughts.

After about 10 minutes of becoming acquainted with the way his body felt under her hands, she stopped moving. She sat behind him, her face pressed between his shoulder blades; Her arms snaked around his waist and her legs on either side of his. Eric looked down at her arms, but kept his hands on his knees. If he put his hands over hers, it would make it impossible for them to forget what was happening. If he accepted what was going on, he wouldn't get over it. He knew that. He'd pretend to get over it and she'd get hurt. He saw it all playing out in his head. He'd like it, and things would be great for a while but then she'd see him for what he was, incapable of fully throwing himself into anything outside of work.

"Tris..."

She shook her head and he sighed. She pressed a chaste kiss to his back for comfort - hers or his - she wasn't sure but it didn't really matter. "You don't have to say anything, just like I don't expect anything." Tris spoke with a soft intonation, barely disturbing the quiet of his room. But just because she didn't expect anything, didn't mean she didn't want anything from him. She didn't want to pretend he wasn't there for her when she needed someone. She wanted it to be more than just courtesy, but she accepted that maybe it wasn't. "You were there for me and I'm going to be here for you."

Eric wanted to tell her no, and denounce her determination to be a good person to him. He didn't deserve it but he felt himself wanting it. The proverbial shoulder to cry on if he needed it. Not to actually cry per se but someone to hold and lay next to because they both need the comfort of just having someone - having each other there. And he would've been lying to them both if he said he didn't enjoy cuddling up with her the night before, it was the first time in a long while where he slept - even if it wasn't all night. The situation and circumstances weren't ideal but he had wanted to be with her in that moment. He said what the hell, and let it happen. He covered her hands with his, threading their fingers together - accepting her offer to just have each other. It wasn't sexual in nature, just an innocent connection laced with a little hesitance but mostly comfort. It almost scared him that he was okay with her being so close.

"I have to go." he said after a few moments, but neither of them moved. Tris nodded a heartbeat later, letting him go. Eric stretched and stood, rubbing his hand on his stomach. They stared at each other for a few seconds, both silently accepting the other person and what they were throwing themselves into.

Tris wondered if he knew about her thing with Four.

Eric wondered if she knew he knew about it.

Things were going to be completely and utterly complicated. But Eric didn't mind complicated - he was complicated. And Tris simply chose not to care.

Eric put on a plain black shirt and stuck his feet into a pair of black combat boots. Tris watched him, oddly enjoying the way he seemed to be moving around her. It was nice to just be there and observe him in his home.

He was a quiet walker, like he was weightless - a stark contrast to the way Four seemed stomped everywhere. Eric looked intimidating and tough, but he was quiet at the same time - he didn't need to overcompensate. His hair wasn't styled, and his blonde hair flopped to the right of his head. It was curly when he didn't gel it back, and she had the urge to run her fingers through it. She told herself it was way too soon for that. They shared way too many intimate touches in the short amount of time they had been near each other. She didn't want him to comb his hair though, he looked younger when it wasn't combed. It didn't look like he planned on styling it either anyway, he kind of just ran his fingers through it and called it a day. Surprisingly, his hair stayed put.

She was so busy being weird - staring at his hair - she hadn't noticed him staring at her, smirking.

"I'm sorry, what?" Tris smiled sheepishly, trying to gather herself.

"I said I'm leaving." He chuckled at her. She nodded and he reacted in kind. He scratched the back of his neck, "I don't know how this works, you know?"

She nodded slowly in understanding. "I don't either."

"There's someone else you have to consider." Eric leaned up against the edge of his dresser, staring at the floor instead of her.

Tris nodded slowly, and she sighed, chewing on the inside of her lip. It was strange to feel the way she did, and that he was so blasé about what he was referring to.

Even though nothing happened, they both had feelings to sort through - Tris more than Eric. He was the only one in the way of what he wanted. She however, she had Four to consider. Eric knew that if they continued down the path they seemed to just step onto together, then Four would be a roadblock. Eric would knock him down if he'd have to in the end - it was Tris who would have to spare Four if she wanted him unscathed because Eric - well, he was Eric. He wouldn't give a flying fuck if she didn't. The problem was that he knew that she did.

Tris wouldn't say it, but her actions proved to him that she wanted some attention and to feel like she wasn't alone; Not to just be seen and heard, but listened to and reassured - To be held. He would have ignored last night if she could, but just by looking at her, he could tell she couldn't.

"I'll figure out a way to tell him." Tris concluded easily.

"Okay then," he looked at her differently, like he wanted to say something else, but he wouldn't.

Tris smiled, "Okay."


End file.
